


All's Well That Ends Well to End Up with You

by blueglitters (orionstarlight)



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Author is ignoring Episode 7, Drinking, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Injury, Late Night Conversations, M/M, No beta we die like Adam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:49:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29697357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orionstarlight/pseuds/blueglitters
Summary: It’s now or never. “Pretend to date me. For the evening.”“You’re fucking with me, right? Us pretending to date, even if it is just for the night?” Kaoru raises an eyebrow.“You seemed rather comfortable draping yourself all over my body like that earlier,” he grimaces.Yes, the women in Okinawa are attractive. No, Kaoru is not interested. Yes, Kojirō seems to be his only option right now. Yes, he will come to regret this.
Relationships: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom
Comments: 44
Kudos: 361





	All's Well That Ends Well to End Up with You

**Author's Note:**

> *shakes you* CherryJoe fake dating au is the only thing you need to see right now, take it. But honestly, time of my life writing this, and thank you to Mariam and Eva for screaming with me every second I had a stroke of genius, this wouldn't be possible without you guys, love you <33
> 
> And I apologise in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes it’s 2AM and I am running on unhealthy doses of caffeine.
> 
> (PS. If you’re a fan of RhodeyTony, you’ll like the easter eggs in this one near the end *winks*)

* * *

“Kaoru is with me,” says Kojirō, placing a hand on the shoulder that definitely doesn’t want to be touched, ignoring every warning signal that’s ever been given to him.

The woman in front of them seems not to notice the aggravating look Kaoru sends his way; instead folds her arms over her chest and peers at them, like she’s trying to spot the very blatant lie that’s being told. The glass of champagne she’s holding teeters slightly as she comes to a conclusion.

Realistically, Kaoru knows he should keep up the act if he wants her to go away and stop asking questions he doesn’t feel like answering, which is really the only reason he hides his grimace, avoids looking at her in favour of drinking his wine.

“Right,” she says eventually, not all that convinced. “You’ll have to excuse me then.”

It’s not until she’s a good five metres away that he can finally rid himself of Kojirō’s warm hand, pulling a face of disdain at having to be rescued.

“I can take care of _myself_ ,” he says, walking towards the bar for another drink. “And what are you even doing here? I didn’t think they’d invite a slob like _you_.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m rather big in the food industry. Likeable too. That helps with getting invited to these things,” he grins, and Kaoru nearly gags. _Likeable? In what universe?_

“Like I said, I can take care of myself. You can leave now.”

Kojirō does not heed the warning in his words, leans against the bar. “What if she comes back? Or worse, what if she brings a friend? Who will protect the damsel in distress?”

“Do you want your balls to be in distress? Because I’ll gladly kick them,” he retorts.

Though some part of him, however, takes in what Kojirō has said. The number of women coming onto him lately hasn’t exactly been the most charming of things, and if even for the night, it would be good to have them shaken off.

He looks at Kojirō sipping on a glass of Scotch, takes in his appearance. He’s cleaned up for the event, so he doesn’t look too shabby really, but that green hair and those bulky muscles are too familiar for him to appreciate it.

“You know, if you’re just going to look at me like that, we really should move to a more private area,” smirks Kojirō, like the look on Kaoru’s face isn’t pure disgust and nothing more.

He bites back the words on his tongue, adjusts the glasses on his nose, and turns his body towards him. 

It’s now or never. “Pretend to date me. For the evening.”

Kojirō chokes on his drink, and Kaoru nearly takes his offer back when he sees it. The _bad_ thing is that the action isn’t necessarily all that unattractive.

“You’re fucking with me, right? Us pretending to date, even if it is just for the night?” Kaoru raises an eyebrow.

“You seemed rather comfortable draping yourself all over my body like that earlier,” he grimaces, recoiling at the thought of having had any part of Kojirō touch him without an immediate rejection.

“It was one hand. I barely touched you. And it worked right? She left you alone?”

Kojirō certainly looks too comfortable and cocky about the situation right now, and Kaoru might have to knock him down a peg or two if this is going to work, but for now, he takes a deep breath.

“She did.” He agrees to the question with gritted teeth. “Which is why I’m asking — kindly, mind you — to keep up the act. Lest she comes back.”

“Say I say yes. What do I get out of it?” Kaoru is definitely not liking all of these questions. Why can’t he just agree?

He huffs. “You get to pretend it’s _me_ you’re dating. I don’t see what more you could possibly ask for.”

Kojirō leans back like he wants to start laughing. “If that’s all you have to offer, declining is looking like the better option.”

He turns away, ready to head back and talk up some sponsors, but Kaoru manages to swallow his pride, step in front of him to stop him and give himself exactly two seconds to come up with something that will make him say yes.

“I’ll put the piercings back in.”

Now this—this catches his attention, puts a gleam in those brown eyes of his that shine a little red sometimes, and he almost regrets having said it.

“Two weeks.”

“Two days.” Kojirō stands his ground. “One week. No more.”

“Deal, _lover_ ,” he says, swinging his arm properly around Kaoru, and the most he can hope for is for the night to end quickly.

Kojirō, however, seems to have other ideas, pulling him away from the safety of the bar and into the dangerous territory of the centre of the ballroom, towards sponsors and buyers Kaoru is not exactly thrilled about facing at this moment in time.

Especially when Kojirō takes it upon himself to tell everyone, “Doesn’t my date look lovely tonight? He always cleans up well.”

Kaoru nearly socks him in the jaw the first time he says it.

He’s having far too much fun with this thing too, looping him in on conversations he’d rather not be a part of, whispering secrets of things that definitely did _not_ happen in the bedroom, mainly because he doesn’t want to be in a ten-metre proximity of him at any given point.

The other reasons… Well, those are harder to explain, and he certainly doesn’t have the time to do so, not when he’s already being dragged into a new crowd.

For the most part, Kojirō doesn’t say anything necessarily too embarrassing, and so long as he keeps his glass of wine filled and manages a tight-lipped smile when needed, he finds he doesn’t really mind him taking over the majority of the conversation.

In fact, it’s nice to see him with people, open and honest, talking like he’ll never run out of words. Reminds him of his high school years, when Kojirō would insist on reading their assigned novel out loud and doing voices because _‘How else are you gonna understand the characters?’_.

Kaoru might be the calligrapher here, but Kojirō has a way with words he’ll never quite be able to fathom, and it’s a shame there’s not much of a place for words in the food industry.

“Well? What do you think, Sakurayashiki-san?” He blinks, not having realised he was being talked to, looks over the men in business suits, and decides quickly on an answer.

“Details will need to be worked out, but it doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

He receives a rather harsh slap on the back. “Great! I think this partnership will work out best for the both of you.”

He blinks again. _Both of you?_ Surely he can’t mean—

“I’m always happy to listen to anything my dear Kaoru says. Man has a voice made of honey that’ll make even glaciers melt,” chuckles Kojirō, and he knows there’s no backing out now.

“Always happy to provide entertainment while you cook, _darling_ ,” he smiles, pinching his cheek a little _too_ hard, leaving the smallest of red marks.

It’s by far not the easiest performance Kaoru has had to put on in his life, but he makes it work, even if it means he’ll be seeing much more of Kojirō in the future during daylight than he already does.

The conversation dissipates after that, a few dates exchanged for the setting of terms, and they’re able to pull themselves away from any more businessmen that come their way, heading outside for some fresh air instead.

Kaoru’s glass of wine is empty now, as is Kojirō’s Scotch, but there’ll be time to refill it yet, the evening far from over. He’d like to go home early, but keeping up appearances is more important than he appreciates.

“You want me to tell you what we’re gonna be working on together or are you fine with trying to figure everything out the longer it goes on?” Kaoru shoots him a glare. “Fine, fine! It’s nothing bad, just helping promote that guy’s new start-up with our skills. You’ll live.”

“I doubt it, considering you’ll be by my side the whole time,” he scoffs, as though he wasn’t the one to suggest the two of them should pretend to be in a relationship in the first place.

“Just trying to be a good boyfriend. You should have a little faith in me, or I won’t be cooking for you anymore.” Kaoru rolls his eyes, leans back against the balcony railing.

“Aren’t we a little old to be calling each other boyfriends and lovers?” he asks, musing more than anything.

Kojirō leans forward on the railing, looks at Kaoru. “Would you have us skip straight to marriage? I haven’t even bought you a ring yet, you know. Not exactly husband material.”

“Marriage is pushing it. Just say… huh.” His mind goes blank at trying to think of a name that doesn’t make things sound strange. “Partner?” Kojirō chuckles.

“I guess that works. Not many terms out there, huh?”

“No, I suppose not. Someone really ought to fix that, if I’m to throw all my dignity out of the window.”

“Hurts,” pouts Kojirō, placing a hand over his heart, and Kaoru has to do his best not to laugh, given that the action tickles his heart a little.

“You’ll live,” he says, firing back his earlier words right back at him. Kojirō continues looking wounded, but he focuses on the view of the city now instead, Kaoru’s gaze following. 

It’s quite the sight, all the lights of the city creating a wonder of colours, and they’re quite lucky to have found a home here, in a place that lets them be far freer than other places in Japan, in more ways than one.

Something about Kojirō’s hair waving about in the wind makes him oddly nostalgic of when it was cut short, made his head look smaller, and he has to hold back from snickering at the memory. Instead, he takes his body off the railing, starts walking back inside.

He turns at the last minute, pushes his glasses up on his nose once more, and catches Kojirō’s eyes.

“You would make a good date for someone tonight.” It sounds a little nicer than he was hoping for. “If your mouth closed more often, that is,” he adds, smiling sweetly.

* * *

Kojirō not even trying to hold back his smiles as he walks into the restaurant has him very much thinking about going home, but he’d promised to come by as proof, so there really isn’t much of a choice now, is there?

What he’s not happy about is the fact that Langa and Reki are also staring at him, confused, pasta falling out of their mouths at the sight of the piercings.

Still, he walks forward to the countertop and takes a seat, does his best to ignore the three _children_ surrounding him, two of them confused out of their minds and the other one riddled with glee.

“Never thought I’d see the day when you’d walk around in those again.”

“ _Again?!_ ” Kaoru ignores the shouts to his left, focusing on the portion of carbonara Kojirō places in front of him. “What do you mean _again?_ ”

“What, he never told you about his teen years? I’m sure I’ve got some pictures somewhere I could show you guys.”

Kaoru stabs his fork more into the plate than into the pasta. “There’s nothing to show. Besides, this is just the end result of some bet you needn’t concern yourselves with. They’ll be out before you know it.”

“Shame. They’re sure to attract even more women than you already do now.” The grip on his fork tightens at the mention of some stranger coming up and flirting with him.

“And you don’t have a problem with that, Nanjō-san?” asks Langa, almost done with his own portion. Kojirō looks at him quizzically.

“It’s annoying seeing it in front of me at work, but hey,” he shrugs, “attraction isn’t something you can control.”

The statement leaves Langa confused, though he doesn’t seem to want to comment on it any further, sticks to going over board details with Reki and what trick they should learn next.

“Oh, Nanjō-san, Sakurayashiki-san, I’m glad to have caught both of you!” Both of them still at the voice, recognising it all too well despite yesterday’s alcohol intake. “Small world isn’t it?” she smiles, but it almost seems like a threat.

“I suppose it is,” replies Kojirō, ever his shining self. The woman looks different with her hair up and less likely to hit on Kaoru in broad daylight, but they’re both still wary.

“You’re here about the project, I assume? Surely you’d rather talk in an office than a restaurant. Why don’t we arrange a better time?”

Kaoru is very keen on getting her out of here as soon as possible, because he really doesn’t feel like keeping up the act again today, and in such a public place, but she seems to be even more stubborn than she was last night, and he already knows this isn’t going to end well.

“Nonsense! I wouldn’t want to intrude on your couple time any more than I already am!” She’s persistent, and it’s an aggravating factor for both of them.

“Couple… time?” Reki stares at the two of them in something that almost resembles horror.

This is bad, because if Reki and Langa know, then Miya is going to know, and if Miya knows, then the whole of _S_ is going to know; it’s hard to determine whether this is going to work in their favour or completely wreck the whole charade.

“You should have said this was a date,” says Langa, pulling Reki up with him. “We would have left by now, otherwise. Thank you for the food.”

And like that, they’re gone, and neither Kojirō nor Kaoru know if they’re going to come back to a skate park filled to the brim with rumours tonight. What it does mean, however, is that they _definitely_ have to keep it going now.

The conversation is brutal, to say the least. She obviously insists on lingering touches with both of them, a little too much flirtiness in her words for what is supposed to be a business conversation, and it doesn’t help that neither of them can remember her name so they can interrupt her politely 

“Does next Thursday work for both of you?” she asks finally, finished with ironing out the first of details.

The piercings will be out by then, and Kaoru breathes a sigh of relief. “Yes, that’s fine. In the evening?”

“Afternoon, I believe. I’ll be in contact,” she smiles, and it still seems like a threat. “Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope I haven’t been a bother.”

“Not at all.” Kojirō takes this one. “After all, even partners need a break from each other sometimes too, huh? Can’t always be as affectionate as we’d like in public, can we?”

The three smiles around the counter space are some of the most forced any of them have ever seen, something so childish in the way they have to behave like adults right now, like Kojirō and Kaoru aren’t pretending to date and the lady isn’t intent on riling them up.

“Should anything change, I’ll come by.” She’s far too smug for her own good and Kaoru has to stop himself from thinking up a plan with Carla to make her break her legs so she can’t come by.

“Thank you for coming by so quickly in the first place,” says Kojirō, leading her out of the restaurant as quickly as he can.

“Oh, no worries! And, Sakurayashiki-kun—You should keep the piercings. They look good on you.”

It’s very hard for them to restrain themselves from throwing up, but they manage it somehow, remembering they’re in a public setting where throwing up isn’t necessarily a promoting factor.

“It’s always the overly friendly ones,” says Kojirō as he comes back to the cash register, sorting out the bills he was going through before Kaoru made his way in, most likely. “Calling you Sakurayashiki-kun already. I’d stay away if I were you.”

“Yes, because I’m actively seeking out women,” he spits, and then hisses when the cup he’s drinking from snags on his lip piercing, which means he hasn’t put it in completely correctly. He’d done it in a haste, so he’s not really all that surprised.

“Here, let me. You were never any good at this without a mirror.” 

Kojirō takes a seat next to him, removing the piercing first and then wiping a wet tissue over where the hole is so that the area is cool. It goes in easily enough, Kaoru doesn’t seem to be in pain, and he twists the ball into place.

His thumb lingers for a second too long as he says, “I always thought you looked good in these. Girls went crazy for them, guys too.” He smiles. “Terrible taste, really.”

“Mhmm. How many suitors did you have when we were in high school with that terrible short hair, _‘Joe’_?”

“‘Suitors’? What are you, living in the eighteenth century? Anyway, it was better than that mullet that covered half of your face from the front. The school should have been giving out free eyes tests. In what world is that attractive?”

“In the world which, coincidentally, is the same one where I got more confessions on Valentine’s Day. Are you on a different plane of existence or what?”

This bickering is familiar to them, something they’ve been doing since their teen years, and they know just where to hit with their jabs so they’re aggravated but not that they’re going to be up all night wondering if something was a blow beneath the belt.

They’d go on for a while yet too, if Kaoru didn’t have previous business to get back to and Kojirō didn’t have a restaurant to run and cook for. Besides, they’ll see each other at _S_ tonight, rumours or no rumours, and that’s bound to make things interesting.

There’s no way of telling what to expect either, especially not with all the female fans they’ve managed to gather over the years, and something tells them to expect a flashmob at the very least of things.

Kaoru gets up, tries not to think about how Kojirō’s fingers felt against his face, still as soft as they were in high school, though maybe with a little more calluses after spending time in the kitchen and skating roughly for so long. He ought to use hand cream, but Kaoru will let him figure that one out for himself.

“These—” he waves a hand at his face “—come off at the end of the week. I hope you haven’t forgotten, given how excited you are.”

“I know you put them back in at night. Maybe I’ll come by and watch you sleep.” He stops himself from punching those green caterpillars he calls eyebrows off his face at the last second.

“You’re a creep, Nanjō Kojirō.” The words don’t seem to have the desired effect. If anything, his confidence gets a boost.

“Ah, but I’m your creep now, aren’t I, Sakurayashiki Kaoru?”

* * *

Carla isn’t saying a word, but Kaoru is sure that if she had human form, he’d be getting the side-eye every two seconds. Trust him to create an AI that can give him the silent treatment even as an inanimate object.

“You know, if you’re going to judge me, the least you can do is speak up.” Carla doesn’t say anything, and Kaoru feels his patience wearing thin.

The ground is still wet from the rain a little, but it’s easy enough to manoeuvre himself on the board, that sensation that he’s lighter than air itself and both on top of the world running through his bones.

There’s no way to really describe skating. It just feels right — the concaves, the board, the wheels. The way you flow through crowds is much like how water finds its natural route, and everything about it feels like home.

The gust of wind that passes by him is too strong not to be man-made, and when his gaze flits up, he’s not surprised to find who he’s looking at. He stares back, grinning like he’s managed to trip Kaoru up, but he doesn’t go down that easy.

“You rely too much on electronics, Four-Eyes! You’re gonna get left behind!” shouts Kojirō.

“Carla, release some gravitational pull.”

As always, Carla responds instantly. “Okay, Master. Releasing gravitational pull.” 

He skates past Kojirō easily enough, wind breezing through the pink strands of his hair, turning just the right amount of degrees so he gains more speed post-turn.

He can’t stop himself from smiling behind his mask, always having loved proving him wrong, knowing that despite their differences, the one thing they have in common is the fact that neither of them is willing to back down from a challenge the other sets.

Kojirō still catches up though, hair tied back into that stupid ponytail Kaoru wants to pull on so his scalp hurts, riding with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Well, they know all of each other’s moves by now, so there’s no surprise it’s hard for either of them to pull ahead.

They’re still throwing insults as they enter, spewing an ‘overgrown ape’ here and an ‘isolated geek’ there, ignoring the crowd of watchful eyes, trying to trip each other up regardless of the distance between them.

It’s a “Wow they even bicker like an old married couple!” that finally gets their attention, and they realise just how _many_ eyes are on them, mapping out and analytical, trying to discern if this is a hoax or not.

Kojirō smiles sheepishly as he slows down, hand rubbing at the back of his neck, wracking his brain with the way he’s determined to not say something stupid, while Kaoru looks straight ahead at a guiltless Miya handling money, grinning from ear to ear.

He skates ahead, leaves his supposed ‘lover’ behind, stopping right in front of him roughly, staring him down. “A betting pool? Really?”

“Multiple, actually,” he says, taking out a box. “Only one of them was on whether it would be the two of you. The others… You can ask around.”

“Aren’t you a little young to be handling the business end of things?” he asks, teeth gritted.

Money sorted, he closes the box, looks up at him. “You’d be surprised what you can do at fourteen,” he grins.

Kaoru remains unimpressed, but Miya is already skating away before he can stop him, towards Reki and Langa, presumably to lecture them on not keeping up a routine.

“Word slipped out then, huh?” What with the way he says it, Kojirō doesn’t really seem all that sorry about it. Half of him thinks he was probably involved with one of the betting pools, unlikely as it might be.

“The charade continues then. Everywhere, apparently. I can’t seem to be rid of you,” he scoffs, fully intent on going over to a ramp, but Kojirō’s hand on his face stops him.

Something akin to blush — he’ll never admit this — rises on his cheeks, making them tingle with heat, and yet there’s nowhere else to look but Kojirō’s eyes, which makes it that much harder to keep his composure.

“Ah, but you love me, _Cherry_. Why would you ever want to be rid of me?” The way Kojirō says his _S_ name is teasing, taunting, and impossible to miss.

He can’t be the only one flustered about the close proximity, however, so he leans in, hand on his chest, which is firmer than he expects, and says, “If I love you, then you must love me in return, correct, _Joe?_ Enough to follow me to the ends of the Earth?”

He leans back out then, glitter in his eyes at the prospect of Kojirō and his furiously red cheeks, mask pulled down and revealing his smile a little _too_ well, but then, what sort of a man doesn’t smile at his lover?

He’s more than happy to leave him just like that, heading off to settle a beef with someone he’d made previously and has every intention of winning, Kojirō confused on how he’s been one-upped by the man that has always refused to show any type of affection, no matter how close someone might be.

“You look good together,” says Langa, coming up to him out of nowhere. “It’s a shame it took this long for the both of you to tell everyone else.”

“Huh? Everyone else?” Langa stares back at him, confused, but Reki is already pulling him along to show him a move he thinks he’s mastered, and neither of them gets an explanation. “Man, those kids. Never know what they’re thinking.”

* * *

It’s quite a rare sight to find Kaoru waiting for him at the end of the road, and he nearly trips on his board when he sees it, but recovery isn’t a hard thing for him.

“Get lonely, Kaoru? Surely you have your pick around here?” He receives a hard glare in return, not thinking much of it, though.

“I could say the same about you, but in case you forgot, people in relationships are usually loyal. Unless you’re not the type?”

They fall into a comfortable rhythm together, walking instead of skating to avoid questions, something warm in the night air despite the wind that picks up and throws the leaves on the ground around.

“Oh, I’m the type, _honeybunch_. Now, what’d you wanna talk about?” Kaoru takes a deep breath, because he knows these next few words aren’t going to be easy. 

“Well, considering we’re to be in a relationship—” Kaoru has no glasses to push up, and his hands feel fiddly “—then I suppose we need to work out the kinks for when we’re together in public, right?”

“Kinks, huh?” He can almost hear the implied sleaziness in his voice. “Didn’t think you were that type of guy.”

“Kojirō. You and I both know what I meant. Do you really want to deal with the problems that will arise if people find out our relationship is fake so quickly?”

He figures he can afford to be nice this one time, and says, “Am I not doing everything to your liking, sweetheart? I’ll change for you, I swear.”

Well, him being nice is a stretch, because he’s not going to give up teasing Kaoru for anything in the world. It’s far too fun, and seeing the little veins grow bigger on his forehead is always a plus.

“We need rules. I propose a written agreement, so we’re not caught off guard by something the other does. I know you may think it’s unnecessary, but—”

“Kaoru.” Kojirō stops in front of him, smiling ever so gently, and makes him step on his board with him. “Relationships don’t need paper. They’re supposed to flow like a river, like when we skate.”

His board is a wooden atrocity that Kaoru never had any intention of stepping on, but now that they’re sharing one, Carla safely tucked under his arm, it doesn't seem so bad, stronger even, than he assumed it would be. He doesn’t feel like he’s going to fly off, but gravity isn’t too strong either, and Kojirō is holding onto him if anything.

“What the hell are you saying, you big oaf? ‘Flow like a river’ — There are rocks in a river, you know? Ones that can trip you up.”

“Just tell me one thing: How are you with PDA?” Kaoru looks like he wants to push him off and make him crack his head open.

“I can put up with it when need be. _Why?_ ”

Kojirō brings him even closer, if possible. “‘Cause there’s a bunch of skaters behind us and I didn’t want you to be caught off guard.”

Kaoru doesn’t have time to ask him what he’s supposed to be caught off guard about before there are lips pressed against his, soft and undemanding, taking their sweet time like they’re not on a skateboard that they might not fall off of at any minute.

When Kojirō pulls away, Kaoru nearly stumbles, but they’re slowing down carefully, losing the speed they’ve gained. He forces himself to look down so he doesn’t have to catch Kojirō’s gaze, pulling his mask back up.

“Sorry,” he hears him say when they finally do stop, helping him off the board. “I should’ve warned you better. It’s not like we’ve had practise.”

Shockingly, Kaoru doesn’t find himself wanting to dispute the matter. “No, I… This is what couples do, right? Show affection, even if it makes everyone else gag in disgust? It’s not exactly the worst thing to put up with.”

“Well, not if it’s me you’re doing it with,” winks Kojirō, and Kaoru seriously considers taking those words back. “But, uh, if you’re serious about a contract, I’d be open to it. I mean, you suggested this thing in the first place.”

It’s such a silly little detail that he honestly didn’t think Kojirō would even retain, but here he is, telling him that he does remember what he said, and Kaoru’s heart does something really stupid.

“Just… don’t come by when I’m working without warning. Apart from that, you have full reign.” Some part of him wonders just how much he will come to regret those words with the grin he receives in return.

* * *

Business meetings are a dull affair for anyone involved, though right now Kaoru and Kojirō are more at risk of being told they’re sweating more than normal than anything.

The woman — Okamoto Yua, they’ve learnt — has been staring them down every opportunity she gets for the better part of an hour, which means Kaoru has had to leave lingering touches on Kojirō’s skin in an attempt to throw her off whatever trail she’s picked up.

It doesn't bother him all that much, seeing as he touches Kojirō often, just in more violent and down near homicidal ways, so having to switch up his dynamic isn’t something that comes too easy to him.

Kojirō, however, doesn’t bother him with any sort of glances that might be taken the wrong way by the others in the meeting. Instead, he looks worried; worried that Kaoru is pushing himself into a place he’s not comfortable with, so the next time his hand lands on his, he holds on, doesn’t let it go.

Kaoru is almost ashamed at the way his breath hitches while he pitches in with an idea on how to improve the partnership, but he manages to preserve, finish his sentence. When he looks over at him, Kojirō offers no explanation apart from a tight smile, their hands staying in the position until all the negotiations are over.

Three of them are left in the meeting room by the end of things, and the aura that lingers in the air among them and Okamoto is not the most comfortable of things they’ve ever experienced, so they do their best to hurry out of there before she can speak.

“The act isn’t as convincing as you think it is,” she says, like she knows everything in the world, and the vein on Kaoru’s forehead comes close to bursting.

“And you aren’t as pleasant as you think you are,” retorts Kojirō, stepping in, the hand that was holding Kaoru’s earlier now resting on his hip, and he heats up instantly, knowing the windows of the meeting room are made of glass.

“I’m sure Sakurayashiki-kun can speak for—”

“Sakurayashiki- _san_ ,” Kaoru says, adjusting his glasses for what feels like the hundredth time today. “Sakurayashiki-san is just fine.”

Materials gathered, he bows and exits, taking Kojirō with him out of the offices, too unsettled to even think of something so simple as letting go of his hands as they walk, his nose directed at the air, paying little attention to the people he passes by.

It’s not until the elevator that Kaoru realises where his hand is, when Kojirō runs a thumb across his skin in an attempt to soothe him. “You let her rile you up way too easy, Kaoru. Gotta take it easy or she’s going to see right through you.”

“Am I that awful at being in a relationship?” He looks down at where their hands are interlocked, feeling small given Kojirō’s build. “Even a false one?”

It’s a question that Kojirō isn’t really sure how to answer at first, because it feels very real compared to all the words they’ve exchanged previously, which were light-hearted, meant in a good-natured manner even if they weren’t the friendliest of things.

Kojirō’s free hand subconsciously goes to the side of Kaoru’s face so he’s looking straight at him when he speaks, so he can’t run away from the conversation.

“It’s just something you’re not used to. We don’t have to keep this thing up any longer than you want, though, so the second you want out, we’ll stop. No more… us.”

“Right. Us,” he swallows, because he has a feeling that when this _is_ all over, their relationship is going to be very different from what it used to be. He’s not sure if he’s ready for that to happen.

He does the next best thing to confronting his fears instead when those lift doors open, closing the distance between them and feeling those lips that taste like home against his own, not really caring if anyone ends up seeing.

It’s an attempt to not think about how all of this is fleeting, how they can’t play pretend at being lovers forever to their hearts’ content, but so long as those lips are against his own, none of those thoughts ever manage to bloom into anything more.

* * *

Sia la Luce is emptier than he expects it to be as he walks inside, skateboard under his arm ready to be plugged in, wearing the comfiest clothes he could muster while still looking presentable.

Kojirō will probably tell him he’s making excuses about Carla needing to be charged to visit him again, but at this point he’s so used to hearing it that all he needs to do is roll his eyes and Kojirō will smile at him and they can move on.

“Kojirō?” No answer, and he’s not sure why, so he starts to make his way to the back room. “Hiding isn’t funny you know, you overgrown child.”

He’s not hiding out in the back room, though, and Kaoru finds that he can’t fathom why he would just leave his restaurant open like it is and not even be on guard about it, off somewhere doing God knows what.

But then, Kaoru has known him long enough to also know that he isn’t that stupid, so he sighs and heads outside from the other end of the room, looks up at the ladder that leads to a rooftop garden that isn’t maintained in the slightest, and puts those biceps of his to good use.

He stops just short of the edge, leaning forward and taking in the view before Kojirō can spy him, listening and watching as his fingers move along guitar strings gently, humming a melody he’s heard all too many times before.

“ _I can still recall… our last summer, I still see it all…_ ”

It’s hard to forget that social studies trip, even years from now. Something about the long walks along the Seine while laughing in the rain as adolescents is so memorable it would be a shame to leave them behind in the past.

“ _We made our way along the river and we sat down in the grass…_ ”

The Eiffel Tower had been bigger up close than they’d thought it would be, but it worked out for the best too, letting them dry off from the fountain they had pushed and pulled each other into, not blocking the sun.

With the sun having gone down a while ago, the only light on Kojirō is the decorative fairy lights he strung up a long time ago and the fire pit he recklessly placed in the centre.

“ _We took a chance… Like we were dancing our last dance…_ ”

Ah, that was quite the night, with a little too much wine drunk and inhibitions lost. Still, Kojirō has always had the remarkable quality of making Kaoru do things he wouldn’t normally dare even think about. 

Kaoru’s sure, that from what little he remembers apart from throwing up first thing in the morning, he managed to embarrass himself like only a tourist can. He supposes he has to be thankful that they got back to the hotel at all really, which is why he hasn’t lashed out in anger just yet.

“Still hung up on that film, I see.” Kojirō only looks a little surprised to see Kaoru making his way over. “You do remind me a little of the three of them, if I’m honest.”

“Ah, you say the kindest things, my Donna,” he winks. “They wrote the song about us, didn’t they? Seems only fair I learn to play it.” He grins, bold and unashamed. 

Kaoru sits down next to him, humming the melody, and when he starts plucking the strings again, he joins in with the lyrics, since he’s heard them so many times before it’s hard not to know them by now.

“ _I can still recall… our last summer, I still see it all…_ ”

He remembers finding out Kojirō was going too, how he seethed when they ended up sharing a room, not even sure how they managed to survive in a cramped space together.

“ _In the tourist jam_ —” sings Kojirō.

“ _Round the Notre Dame_ —” continues Kaoru.

“ _Our last summer_ ,” they finish, “ _w_ _alking hand in hand_ …”

Walking hand in hand was more Kojirō pulling Kaoru along everywhere, looking for gifts for his family and knick-knacks he had no use for while Kaoru did his best to not faint in the summer heat from all the exercise.

“ _Paris restaurants, our last summer; Morning croissants…_ ”

Kaoru picks up. “ _L_ _iving for the day, worries far away, our last summer, we could laugh and play…_ ”

They don’t bother with the next few lines anymore, because neither of their names nor lives seems similar to ‘ _Harry’s_ ’, no bank to work in, no family of their own yet, and definitely not football fans in the least.

“ _walks along the Seine, laughing in the rain, our last summer, memories that remain…_ ”

It’s a trip that they’ll remember fondly for a long time yet, despite amounts of alcohol consumed and embarrassing memories that aren’t exactly representative of their best qualities.

Kojirō’s hands stop strumming slowly, letting the music fade out, eyes never wavering from Kaoru’s form, at the small smile he’s not even trying to hide, because they both know Kojirō knows the effect the song has on him.

“So, what’re you doing on my rooftop, honey?”

Kaoru smiles with a little more cheekiness. “Came for business, darling. Stayed for the company.”

“You flatter me. No hello kiss?” Kaoru’s eyebrow goes up as he shifts a little closer.

“You know, Kojirō, it feels like I’m the only one giving in this ‘relationship’. About time you took some initiative, don’t you think?”

Kojirō shakes his head before he leans in and presses his lips to Kaoru’s, missing the piercing already, having gotten his permission, but doesn’t stick around for longer than he thinks he’d be comfortable with, knowing when not to push.

“Initiative taken. How was that?” Kaoru leans back, takes in the way Kojirō is trying not to blush at the prospect of practising kissing him.

“We’re getting better.” He swallows something that weighs hundreds of pounds in his throat. “The, uh, the crowds at _S_ will go crazy when they see it.”

It’s not what he wants to say, not by a long shot, but something tells him that it’s better to keep what he _does_ want to say for himself, because surely whatever is making his heart beat this fast is simply an effect of the song they were just singing, nothing more.

* * *

_The rain beats down on the cobblestone paths on the street as Kaoru watches from the balcony, doors open and blowing the cool night air into the bedroom._

_The unlit cigarette in his lips dangles, just barely hanging on, when a poor attempt at soft footsteps comes up behind him._

_"Those things aren't good for you, you know." Kojirō takes it out of his mouth, puts it in the bathrobe pocket. "What if it gets snagged on your piercing?"_

_Kaoru rolls his eyes. "This is Paris. Anything goes, right?"_

_Kojirō can't help but smile at his cheekiness, at the way he feels the need to break the rules even in a foreign country, where no one even knows him. But that's just something so_ Kaoru _, that he can't complain._

_"Don't want you getting sick. Still got plenty of sights left to see and fountains to pull you into."_

_"Yes, thank you for that by the way. You're lucky I brought a change of clothes with me before we left." He's known him long enough that he can tell he's not really angry._

_"I mean, it was only fair," he shrugs. "You did push me in first."_

_"You deserved it." Kojirō lifts an eyebrow, unsatisfied with the answer._

_He turns Kaoru's face towards him, moves the long strands of hair in his eyes out the way, and leans in close._

_“For what? Kissing you in public? Letting everyone know you're mine?"_

_Kaoru's voice is softer this time when he whispers, "Precisely. Don't you know how people stare in Europe?"_

_No, he's not angry. If anything, he's embarrassed, flushed as pink as his hair even though no one can see them now, on a balcony that overlooks the rained-on city of love._

_"Can't imagine it's anything different than in Okinawa," he says softly, leaning in and kissing those lips that are both warm and cold, open yet guarded._

_But it's Kojirō kissing him, not anyone else, and Kaoru would never be able to refuse him an action so simple yet so full of love. He isn't even really sure when he became this big a weakness to him, but he can't say he's against it having happened._

_"I suppose not," he answers, a little breathless, a little tongue-tied._

_Kojirō smiles at him, pulls him away from the open air and back into the room that really is far too small for the both of them, but then they have all the time in the world to earn more money for more luxuries._

_"Bed's cold without you, Four-Eyes. Don't leave again."_

_"Well someone needs to keep an overgrown ape warm."_

The cold sweat he wakes up in as a result of the dream nearly kills him, head spinning as he calms down.

He certainly doesn’t know where that came from, fantasies about nights in Paris that definitely _didn’t_ happen, but he figures he won’t be singing any ABBA songs with Kojirō for a while yet.

“Carla… Open the blinds, please.”

“Okay, Master.” He tries not to squint when the light comes in all the way, sitting up in bed and reaching for his glasses. “Good morning, Master. Would you like me to recite today’s schedule?”

Something in his stomach upturns and he heads straight for the toilet in his en-suite, just making it in time to throw up without missing. He’s there for a good ten minutes before he’s able to stand up again, albeit on shaky legs.

“Actually, Carla, I’m going to need you to cancel everything for today. Send out an apology email, as well, but keep it vague. We don’t need people knowing I’ve caught something,” he says quietly, throat sore.

“Okay, Master. Shall I close the blinds again?” He nods before he remembers she can’t see the action.

“Please do. And make sure I’m not disturbed for the rest of the morning and afternoon.”

What Kaoru says, goes, and Carla does exactly what’s asked of her, knows he needs time to rest to deal with whatever is wrecking his body. She’ll wake him up in a few hours, so he can eat and take some medicine, but for now, it’s better that he sleeps.

Though she’s not a sentient being, she knows how to deal with situations like these all too well, but she also knows that if Kaoru leaves something unsaid, then there’s nothing stopping her from doing something he hasn’t explicitly said she’s not _allowed_ to.

So when the business email goes out, there’s a separate message sent out, to a one _nanjosialaluce@gmail.com_ , asking him to come over as soon as possible once he’s free. 

Kaoru would never dare even think about sending his friend — yes, friend, despite how he acts towards him — a message and asking for his help, but really, it’s on him for building such a cleverly crafted AI that knows how to read between the lines.

Which is why, around three hours later, when his head is pounding so much he has no choice but to wake up, the smell of something French is wafting through his apartment, flaring up his senses.

“Carla,” he groans, sitting up, reaching for his glasses again, “just who is in my home?”

“Nanjō-san, Master.” The fact that she doesn’t add more information means she’s not planning on telling him anything, and he sighs inwardly.

“Alright. Did he at least bring medicine?”

“You bet he did, sweetheart,” says Kojirō, entering the bedroom with a tray in his hands.

Carla must have alerted him in the kitchen that Kaoru was up, and he’s not all that happy that he has to deal with people this quickly, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“Kojirō, you don’t have to take care of me. I’m a grown man, I know how to handle a small stomach bug.”

He sits down next to him on the bed after placing the tray on the bedside table, and then places the back of his palm against his forehead before he can protest.

“You’re running hot. Carla mentioned you threw up, so it’s most likely light food poisoning. You’ll be up and at ‘em in no time.”

He reaches forward then, for Kaoru’s lip, and he catches his hand. “Kojirō—”

“Relax.” He lets go of his wrist. “Taking out your piercing so it doesn’t smell later.”

“Oh. Right,” he says, voice smaller than he’d like it to be, and Kojirō works the piercing out, places it in the box that has the rest of his earrings in it.

He hasn’t worn them in years, sure, but it’d be a shame to let the holes close up completely and lose a part of his youth, so he puts them in at night or when he has a day off, for old time’s sake.

He looks over at the tray of stuff Kojirō’s brought him, medicine for his stomach and a soup he’s probably been making all morning, what with how good it smells, and he almost feels guilty for having him here.

“Kojirō, I…” He hesitates, once again not sure if he wants to say what he wishes to.

_I don’t want to have you here, taking care of me. I don’t want to see your smile this early in the morning, reserved just for me. I don’t want you to make all of this feel more real than it actually is._

“Kojirō, we’re not really together. You don’t need to be here to take care of me when I’m sick.”

Something falters on his face for a split-second, but it’s gone before he can discern what it was. “I’m still your friend, Kaoru. A little fake relationship isn’t going to get in the way of me making sure you’re okay.”

He, unfortunately, cannot dispute that matter, not when Kojirō is just as stubborn as him, already lifting the bowl and trying to feed him.

On any other day, he’d hit him for even suggesting such an action, but as it stands, he’s weak and his arms hurt and whatever he’s put in the soup feels good and warm, even if he can’t manage more than ten spoonfuls before he feels sick again.

“Thank you for, uh, for coming by,” he says hoarsely, after he’s taken the medicine and washed it down with water. “I know you have your own problems to worry about.”

“Hey, you got my back, I got yours, remember?” Kojirō reminds him, all while checking his temperature one more time.

And he does remember, since they’ve promised it so many times. First was under the outdoor staircase in their second year of high school when Kaoru tried to quit smoking for the first time. 

Second was when they’d come back from the social studies trip, exhausted and tired and ready to take on the world, promising that even after splitting to different universities, they’d continue to look out for each other.

Third was during finals week, when Kaoru was sure he was going to strangle his engineering professor and Kojirō was aggressively taste-testing seven different kinds of tomato sauce, not sure which one was both sweet and salty enough.

There have been many more promises since then, all with varying degrees of seriousness, because against all odds, the years have been kind and have not forced them apart.

“Yes, well, just don’t expect me to cook for you if you get sick. I have a busy schedule I’d rather _not_ upturn.” Kojirō laughs at him, just because he can, and gathers all the stuff Kaoru doesn’t need in the bedroom.

“Trust me, honey, the last thing anyone wants is _you_ of all people cooking for them.” Kaoru would love to argue that point with him, but he’s already moving out, heading back into the kitchen, probably ready to make dinner for when he wakes up again.

He smiles, settles down again, ignores the heaviness in his heart. “Carla, blinds, please.”

“Okay, Master.”

* * *

“Feeling better, baby?” The nicknames haven’t stopped coming and Kojirō is stretching them to the point where Kaoru can’t even come up with a clever comeback other than ‘ _Do apes not know how to behave?_ ’.

“Much,” he settles on instead. It’s simple, and his head still hurts from the two days in bed.

“Great,” he smiles, leaning in and kissing him right on the street before Kaoru can even protest. “So you gonna tell me where we’re going?”

Kaoru looks at him like he’s stupid. “What do you mean where are we going, we’re going on a date.”

Kojirō chokes on air when he hears the words ‘ _going on a date'_. Partially because he didn’t think Kaoru would ever ask something like this of him, and partially because he didn’t think Kaoru knew what a date _was_.

“Does someone have a gun to your head? Are you being blackmailed into taking me out?” The mock-serious voice he says it in makes Kaoru want to choke him.

“No, Kojirō. I’m just suggesting an activity that we’re supposed to do as a couple. We don’t have to, if you want. But I was going to take you somewhere interesting _and_ pay for you.”

There’s a tone to his voice that almost makes it sound like he’s challenging him to a beef, and if that wasn’t enough to tip him off, the way his head is tilted back and chin is pointed up makes it very clear to Kojirō that if he so much as tries to say no, he’s going to get his head ripped off.

“Honey, you flatter me,” he says, taking Kaoru’s hand as he starts walking away in the opposite direction in an attempt to make him decide faster. “But seriously, you’re not gonna tell me where we’re going?”

They slow down a little, Kaoru’s hand warm in his. “I’d rather keep it a surprise. I’m a fan of honest reactions. In the meantime, you can tell me about the customers you wanted to strangle today.”

Ah, Kaoru knows him so well, it’s scary sometimes. He smiles at the pavement while he talks about the guy that sent back his pizza twice because it ‘ _didn’t taste Italian enough_ ’ — whatever that means — and Kaoru watches him, watches the details of his face and memorises them.

And it’s a funny thing, looking at your best friend this way, but he can’t help it. There are sides to him he’s only just noticing, and he can’t help but feel guilty about it a little.

Kojirō pretends he doesn’t know Kaoru’s looking at him, because if he acknowledged it, he’s sure that he’d start blushing profusely, and that’s the last thing he needs him seeing.

He doesn’t deserve to have this side of Kaoru revealed to him either, one that cares and goes out of his way to make the relationship work, and he shouldn’t have to waste all that on someone like him, someone he’s only dating out of convenience.

“You know, when you’re thinking about something other than you’re talking about, your smile falters. Do I get the privilege of knowing what’s happening inside your head?”

“Nothing interesting. Still wondering where we’re going,” he lies, the words spilling from his lips like wine at Dionysus’ parties.

“Then I suppose it’s lucky we’re here, isn’t it?” grins Kaoru, and Kojirō looks in front of them, at the building he’s taken him too, and does a double-take.

He thinks he’s imagining things.

“An ice rink. In the middle of summer. Kaoru—”

“I want to watch you fall over while I skate gracefully. Indulge me?”

“Where the hell did you even think of this as a date idea?” he laughs, not really caring just how much he probably looks like a little kid right now.

“Langa. Not directly, just his snowboarding background, because I don’t take relationship advice from children. I figured we don’t get much in terms of winters here, no snow, no ice, so I came up with what I could,” he shrugs, like it means nothing.

It’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard, coming from the smartest man he’s ever met, but he has never backed down from a challenge before, and he sure as hell isn’t going to start now.

Kojirō nearly pulls Kaoru’s arm off when he pulls him inside, surging forward to find a pair of skates that’ll fit them, because truth be told Kojirō hasn’t seen snow or felt cold since his grandma died, and this might not be worth a lot in someone else’s eyes, but to him, it means the world.

Kaoru pays, as promised, for an hour on the ice, and he barely has time to tie his laces to ensure that he won’t trip first thing before Kojirō’s hand is holding his again, for safety or for added nuance he can’t tell.

He knows how much Kojirō misses winter breaks spent at his grandparents’ house, having had to sell it a good few years ago now, and if this is all it takes to make him happy then there’s not a reason in the world not to spend all the money he has to do it, because when Kojirō smiles, the world smiles with him.

“You won’t let go, right?” His legs wobble when he asks. “Man I haven’t done this in a long time.”

Kaoru shuffles closer to him and says softly, “I mean, I could, but we’re a couple, and couples skate together, correct?”

Kojirō gulps at how close he is, at how his cheeks are a little red from the difference in temperature, and he realises just how similar he looks to the image of a high school senior he once felt something for.

He leans in and kisses him before he can regret it, but it doesn’t taste the same. It doesn’t taste hopeful, doesn’t taste like it’ll last. It’s far more bitter, resembles something akin to regret, and Kojirō already knows he’s in too deep, but not deep enough to not do something about it.

“Kojirō? Everything alright? _You’re_ not sick, are you?” He shakes his head, puts that famous smile of his on and dials it to eleven.

“Just thinking about how lucky you are to be dating someone like me.”

It’s his standard. Make a joke that praises his confidence, deflect whatever feelings are creeping up on him, and hope to the Gods above that no one notices the crack in his façade.

At that, of course, Kaoru lets him go, which makes him fall backwards, but he catches his hand again quickly, pulling him down onto the ice with him, laughing while Kaoru calls him an embarrassing idiot.

* * *

It happens completely out of the blue, and he doesn’t really expect it at all, but he should, because Langa and Reki finally confessing to each other was a subject being danced around for a while already.

At _S_ , when Langa lands a trick Reki has been trying to teach him for weeks now, runs up to him and shouts, “Amazing! This is why I’m in love with you!”

There’s a moment where they both freeze, of course, processing what’s been said, but then Langa blushes as bright as Reki’s hair and mumbles something that has Reki surging forward to kiss him.

It wasn’t easy to determine what he was feeling at first when he saw it, but when the dust had settled and he caught Kojirō’s eyes from across the sea of skaters, there’s a pang that he recognises that he wishes he didn’t.

Because it’s jealousy that he feels, for their carefree spirit and honesty, and jealousy that what he has now is nothing like that in the least.

He shouldn’t be feeling jealous at all, and makes it a point to very rarely experience the emotion, but he can’t stop it this time around, not when he thinks about the point of _intimacy_ this relationship has come to, something born from lies and greed and delusions.

They never used to share rides home after _S_ of such frequency. They never used to leave lingering touches out of care. They never used to show up on rooftops to reminisce and sing. They never used to kiss in elevators when no one was around. They never used to drop everything and show up and take care of each other when the other was too weak.

They never used to see each other as anything more than a friendship that had managed to last past the years of their youth, and now Kaoru feels there’s more to it than that.

It’s strange, really, how close this whole façade has brought them, and knowing Kojirō as he does now is not something he’s necessarily against. Seeing him in this new light under the pretence of a fake relationship may or may not have him realising how lucky he is to have had someone by his side all this time.

Jealousy is something he can move on from, live with if forced to, but it’s not worth losing what they have right now over. Who knows? Maybe they’ll come out of this better, closer.

Kojirō comes up to him board under his arm, and Kaoru hides his smile even when he pulls his mask down, leans forward, and places a kiss on his cheek.

When he pulls back, however, Kojirō stands in front of him, wracked with guilt.

“Ko—Joe? Everything alright? You didn’t hurt yourself this afternoon, did you?”

“No, no, uh…” Kojirō breathes in deeply. “I want out. I’m sorry.” 

Oh. _Oh_.

He stands still, tries not to sway as he lets the words wash over him. _I want out. I’m sorry_. He didn’t think he’d be hearing those words tonight, not after today had gone so well.

 _It seems I’ve miscalculated_.

He doesn’t manage to gather his wits straight away. He’s stared at for a while before he finds his footing, backs away.

“So you want—Why—When—I—” He’s usually better at talking, but the Japanese language doesn’t seem to be on his side today. 

Kojirō’s hand comes up as if in an attempt to catch him, but Kaoru pushes it away gently, tries to sift through everything that’s going through his head at the moment, tries to understand why his heart is so loud.

No part of him had even thought about what would happen if Kojirō was the one who wanted to back out first, and certainly not this early into things. He thought it’d carry for over a month or so, but to not even make it to that mark? He isn’t sure what to make of things.

His board carries him out of the crowds faster than Kojirō can react, letting him skate away to a secluded area where he’s sure no one can see him, hidden behind tall trees and low bushes, nearly tripping when he finally stops and goes down on one knee.

Everything around him is spinning like crazy, his lungs going increasing and decreasing in capacity faster than he’d like them to, and breathing is not coming easy.

What’s happening, he doesn’t know. He’s never felt like this before, really, or at least not of this magnitude, and the only thing in his mind are Kojirō’s words, bouncing over and over.

 _I want out. I’m sorry_.

_I want out._

_I’m sorry_.

 _Sorry_.

“Carla, check the heart—Check the, check the—Is it the brain?”

“No sign of cardiac anomaly or unusual brain activity, Master,” Carla answers back immediately, the bangle on his wrist a bright violet.

“So, I—Poison? I was poisoned, somehow?”

“My diagnosis is that you’ve experienced a severe anxiety attack.”

His breathing gets a little easier, but he still rests against the ground, fist against the gravel, taking in Carla’s words. They don’t really seem real, even as he processes them.

“Anxiety attack?” he breathes. “Me?”

* * *

“You look miserable,” states Miya, and Kojirō nearly jumps out of his own skin, eyes snapping back into the present and away from the plate he’s been cleaning.

“Jesus, you kids come out of nowhere these days.” He puts the plate down on the pile of clean ones. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“Finished early. Waiting for Reki,” he says, nose back in his game. Kojirō’s about to start cooking him something to eat when he speaks up again. “How are you planning on getting him back?”

“Win who back?”

Miya blinks at him. “Sakurayashiki-san. Who else?”

“Oh.” Kojirō gathers the ingredients he needs for garlic bread. “I’m not getting him back. And anyway, you’re too young to be worrying about my love life.”

Miya nods slowly, once more turns back to his game, and Kojirō sighs in relief that he’s done being questioned, continues with the food he was working on, hoping Reki comes by soon to pick him up and leave.

“So why the fake relationship?” He nearly drops the dough on the floor.

Kojirō considers his options in this situation. Miya’s a crafty kid, so it’s hard to tell just how much information he has stored. He’s not sure if he’s better off avoiding the question or answering it, really.

“Why would Kaoru and I have been in a fake relationship? We tried dating, it didn’t work, we broke up. Simple as.”

“If it were a real relationship you wouldn’t have broken up in the first place, or if you had, both of you would be passively-aggressively trying to get the other to apologise. Instead, you’re moping everywhere, and everyone can see it.”

Apparently, fourteen-year-olds have greater abilities in stalking and coming to conclusions than he suspected, and he’s almost starting to feel like he’s under investigation right now.

“Still not planning on getting him back,” he says, adding oregano for flavour but not too much because he knows Miya’s not a fan. “We’re better off as friends. Rivals. Whatever.”

“What, did you fall in love with him or something?” Miya snickers in an attempt to make fun of him, but it’s impossible to miss the pan slipping out of Kojirō’s hands just before he managed to put the bread in the oven.

He feels almost stupid for talking about this with a kid, but since Kaoru’s not talking to him anyway, who else will?

“Falling in love wasn’t part of the deal. I had to end it.”

“Well, that’s stupid.”

Kojirō expected a more neutral response, and something about how easily he said it has him concerned.

“I mean, if you guys love each other, shouldn’t you work through this or something? That’s what my mom and dad do when they fight. _Talk_.”

“It was a fake relationship,” Kojirō clarifies, starting over with a fresh half-batch of dough. “He’s not in love with me, so there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Wow. Being a grownup doesn’t heighten your intelligence in the slightest, does it?”

Kojirō grimaces. “You little—”

“Garlic bread! If you’re making some for Miya and not me, I’m gonna starve, and that’s not a good look for you or the restaurant,” interrupts Reki, Langa in tow.

It’s not a good idea to bring up the topic again now, so he starts up two more portions of garlic bread, avoids looking at Langa specifically in light of the memories of the ice rink he brings up. 

Miya does have a good point about talking out the fights you have with your loved ones, but there’s no chance Kaoru feels the same way towards him, because if he did, he wouldn’t have asked him to be his partner in the first place.

Kaoru doesn’t deserve to have that burden placed on him either. What good would Kojirō confessing to him do? None, that’s what. He needed someone to act with him to keep women at bay, and that’s exactly what he did. He didn’t want more, he didn’t want less — just someone to share the stage with him during the performance of a lifetime.

Maybe he’s a fool for it, agreeing in the first place, ending up exactly where he swore he wouldn’t, feeling exactly like he did when he heard Kaoru was moving away for his first year of college, and when he did the same so he wouldn’t be in Okinawa alone.

So maybe he kneads the dough with a little more anger than necessary. Maybe he zones out, doesn't listen to the questions Reki asks him properly. Maybe he closes up alone tonight, no skateboard coming by to be charged.

It’s better, that way. At least he ended it before anyone could get hurt.

* * *

His calligraphy isn’t exactly the perfection it used to be. A few screws loose in his programmes and he’s worried he hasn’t managed to fix them all before today’s meeting, having passed out from exhaustion while leaving Carla running.

He looks good though, has covered up his dark circles with a little makeup, and for the most part, he can put up with the giant pit that has made a home in his stomach. After all, there’s no use in fretting over things that aren’t in his control.

Well, he’s trying not to fret over them, but that’s not how he’s built as a person, unfortunately, a person who, apparently, according to a professional with multiple PhDs, has generalised anxiety disorder.

In reality, he should have seen the diagnosis coming, but he didn’t really understand why it took so long for him to receive it until he was asked one question.

_Is there someone in your life that keeps you grounded, acts as a safety-net of sorts?_

He hadn’t been able to answer. He might have done, if the meeting had been a mere week ago. Kojirō’s name would have been the first thing out of his mouth.

He took that for granted. Everything Kojirō ever did, from helping him quit smoking all the five first times he tried, to agreeing to go out with him just so Kaoru wouldn’t have to suffer at the hands of female admirers. 

All these years, Kojirō has been there, and now he’s not. And he’s really not sure how he’s supposed to deal with that on his own, without the person that keeps him grounded, with his ‘safety-net’.

“Carla, lock up,” he says, before he steps out of the door to his apartment.

“Locking up, Master.” Her reply is instant, never wavering. At least he knows she’ll always be around to do what needs doing.

Today’s lunch affair isn’t anything too big for him. It’s paying well and it’ll be a practise before they actually work out a dinner to promote Satō-san’s start-up, and for a couple of hours, he’s capable of putting aside his feelings and spending time with Kojirō and Okamoto.

He’ll get over Kojirō leaving, come back to _S_ once the medicine he’s taking starts working because he’s given it the time it needs, and his life will go back to what it was. Calm and collected during the day, pumped up with adrenaline during the night.

They’re sending two cars to his address, as per request, and Kojirō is already there waiting, looking at ease in a crisp suit that hugs his muscles just right, and Kaoru has to resist taking him in with his eyes despite the hunger he feels.

“I’ll take the car with Okamoto,” he says, looking up from his phone. “I don’t want you being uncomfortable.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can take care of myself,” he replies curtly, something cold in his eyes when he looks at him, and Kojirō regrets speaking up.

They don’t exchange any more words before the cars are pulling up and Kaoru is getting inside the first one, Okamoto smiling straight at him, and then they’re off, pulling into traffic, Kojirō’s face no longer important to him.

The ride is silent, for the most part at first. Okamoto attempts small talk, of course she does, and Kaoru offers evasive answers in return, hopeful that it’ll make her end her line of questioning.

It’s not until they’re stopping at a red light, minutes away from the venue, that he realises how naïve he’s been.

“Sakurayashiki-san, perhaps it isn’t any of my business who you date, or pretend to, for that matter, but I’d like to point out the two of you made a mistake in putting things to an end.”

Kaoru looks over at her, confused, because surely this isn’t the same woman that told them the act wasn’t as convincing as they thought it was

“You’re right, it is none of your business.” Better he be snide and present himself uninterested in her opinion, lest she develop on it.

“Don’t get me wrong, I was and continue to be jealous of Nanjō-san for being able to have you for himself, but it seems to me you didn’t even notice that he’d fallen in love with you, and you him. A curious thing, how oblivious you are.”

He’d very much like to argue with her on the topic, but he finds himself speechless, a rare occurrence, thinking about all the things they’ve shared since that fateful night at the charity gala.

_In fact, it’s nice to see him with people, open and honest, talking like he’ll never run out of words._

_“You’re a creep, Nanjō Kojirō.” The words don’t seem to have the desired effect. If anything, his confidence gets a boost._

_“Ah, but I’m your creep now, aren’t I, Sakurayashiki Kaoru?”_

_He leans back out then, glitter in his eyes at the prospect of Kojirō and his furiously red cheeks, mask pulled down and revealing his smile a little too well, but then, what sort of a man doesn’t smile at his lover?_

_It’s such a silly little detail that he honestly didn’t think Kojirō would even retain, but here he is, telling him that he does remember what he said, and Kaoru’s heart does something really stupid._

_He does the next best thing to confronting his fears instead when those lift doors open, closing the distance between them and feeling those lips that taste like home against his own, not really caring if anyone ends up seeing._

_It’s not what he wants to say, not by a long shot, but something tells him that it’s better to keep what he_ does _want to say for himself, because surely whatever is making his heart beat this fast is simply an effect of the song they were just singing, nothing more._

_“Hey, you got my back, I got yours, remember?” Kojirō reminds him, all while checking his temperature one more time._

_And it’s a funny thing, looking at your best friend this way, but he can’t help it. There are sides to him he’s only just noticing, and he can’t help but feel guilty about it a little._

_They never used to see each other as anything more than a friendship that had managed to last past the years of their youth, and now Kaoru feels there’s more to it than that._

_He took that for granted. Everything Kojirō ever did, from helping him quit smoking all the five first times he tried, to agreeing to go out with him just so Kaoru wouldn’t have to suffer at the hands of female admirers._

A screech of wheels has him pulling out of his thoughts. 

“Sakurayashiki-san, Okamoto-san, are the two of you alright?” asks the driver. Kaoru isn’t listening, not when he’s witnessing the nightmare he is.

He looks behind him, looks at the explosion of petrol and sparks, at the explosion the man he loves is caught up in. 

_At the explosion the man he loves is caught up in._

It doesn’t matter that the car is about to pull over somewhere safer.

“Kojirō!” 

He yanks open the door and runs out into the street, into the town car that was behind them, now turned over twice, not yet going up in flames, but certainly populating the surrounding area with smoke.

Because Kojirō is in that overturned car, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t singlehandedly get him out. Not when he’s his responsibility.

He took it all for granted. He’s determined to get it all back.

* * *

Kaoru’s nearly falling asleep, the beep of the monitor ever so steady, but he’s not budging from the uncomfortable hospital chair, the upper half of his body leaning on the bed as he hums another familiar tune.

“ _Take it easy, with me please; Touch me gently, like a summer evening breeze…_

 _Take your time, make it slow; Andante, andante, just let the feeling grow…_ ”

He still hasn’t woken up in the hours he’s been here, but he’s less injured than he could have been, bruised ribs and a bashed leg the extent of things, but even for such a huge man, he looks fragile.

Reki and Langa had come by a while ago, left some flowers and talked to him for a bit, filled him in on the newest trick Langa had learnt (after falling over ‘ _two-hundred and twenty-two times_ ’; an exaggeration, he’s sure), Miya dragged along with them.

It had been quite the sight, watching them trying to annoy him awake, albeit unintentionally, but eventually he had to leave them to their own devices, figured he could give them some time to talk alone, but Miya had followed him out of the room faster than he could have comprehended.

“ _Ask him again why he broke up with you when he wakes up_ ,” is what Miya had left him with before he headed back outside, presumably to wait for Reki, like he knew something Kaoru could only _hope_ was true.

Because Kojirō breaking up with him shouldn’t have meant anything to him if he was only pretending to care. Maybe, if Kaoru and him had been the type of people to be open with their feelings, all this could have been avoided, but as it stands, Kojirō is lying injured in a hospital bed, filling Kaoru with dread that he won’t wake up.

“ _Make your fingers, soft and light_ ,” he sings, taking his hand. “ _Let your body be the velvet, of the night…_

 _Touch my soul, you know how;_ _Andante, andante, go slowly with me now…_ ”

He makes fun of him a lot for being loud, a lot to handle, boisterous in public — and while the fact of the matter is that in general, he despises these things, there’s something about Kojirō being too quiet that makes him regret ever yelling at him in the first place.

Eyes lift with a gentle fluttering as the hand he’s holding tightens, a single twitch of Kojirō’s fingers has him lifting his head, forgetting about whatever stupid lullaby he’s been singing in favour of looking into his eyes.

“Hey, Donna,” he croaks, voice hoarse and barely there.

“How are you feeling?” he asks gently, checking his temperature and handing him a cup of water to drink from the second he tries to sit up, because Kojirō is as stubborn as they get.

“Like I was in a car crash,” he wheezes.

Sense of humour is still intact then, as is expected. Kaoru wouldn’t hear of anything else.

_I’d like to point out the two of you made a mistake in putting things to an end._

_Ask him again why he broke up with you when he wakes up._

_At the explosion the man he loves is caught up in._

“Why did you break up with me that night at _S?_ ”

Kojirō knows there’s no point in lying anymore, knows there’s no getting out of this, but his heart still feels heavy when he says the words.

“I’m in love with you.” 

Kaoru looks down at where their hands are intertwined.

“How long?” he whispers.

Kojirō sucks in a breath. “Day before finals week our last year, you slept over. Woke up looking like you’d been to hell and back. I thought you were beautiful.”

Right now really might not be the moment for it, but Kaoru splutters with laughter, because trust Kojirō to fall in love with him at a time like that and never speak about it until now.

“I looked awful that week. I was running on an hour of sleep and consuming caffeine like it would keep me alive. How could you have fallen in love with me then?”

“Cause it’s you, Kaoru. No matter how much time passes, how many people flirt with me, it’s always gonna be you.” He’s trying not to let his eyes water, because Kojirō has always had a way with words he’s never going to understand.

“Hey. Remember when you got that really bad haircut in your second year?”

“The one you constantly make fun of me for?” Kaoru smiles.

“Yes, that one. That’s when I realised it was more than a crush.” Kojirō looks at him with wide eyes of disbelief. “Thought I’d grow out of it with time. I guess I miscalculated.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot. Who falls in love with someone when they look like that?”

Kaoru smiles at the disaster in front of him, misplaced as it might seem, but that’s alright. Kojirō is allowed to see him like this, open and vulnerable and _trying_.

“ _I do_. I fall in love with everything you do, Kojirō. Every smile, every caring act, every dish you cook, every present you give, every lingering touch you’ve ever left me — I remember them all.

“And if it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to continue collecting the memories. We tried a false relationship, it didn’t work. So how about a real one?”

“You know I’d follow you to the ends of the Earth, honeybunch.” He doesn’t gag at the nickname. He’s used to them by now. “And I know you’d do the same.”

Kaoru grins, and then he’s closing the distance, lips pressed against Kojirō’s, finding in them years of love and friendship and trust, both from the past and of those to come.

When he pulls away, there’s a shine to Kojirō’s eyes that he’s sure he shares right now and then he’s closing them again, simply to bask in the moment.

Kaoru rests his forehead against Kojirō’s. “Next time, you ride with me, okay?”

  
  
  


* * *

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Popping in to say I've gone through it properly this time after sleeping so anything that was 'off' should be fixed, and I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who commented the five hours I was sleeping, it was such a wonderful surprise to wake up to, bless <3
> 
> [my ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/erissapphic)


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